Academia.eduAcademia.edu
Elizabeth DeLoughrey ‘The Whole is Made up of Many:’ An Interview with Johnny Frisbie. New Literatures Review 38 (2002): Introduction Florence “Johnny” Frisbie has the distinction of being one of the first published women writers from the Pacific Islands. At fifteen, she published her first autobiography, Miss Ulysses from Puka-Puka (1948), which documented her family’s extensive travels across the Pacific before and during the Second World War. It was written in 3 languages (Rarotongan, Pukapukan and English), and translated and edited by her well-known American father, the novelist and self-described “epicurean beachcomber” Robert Dean Frisbie. This work is also profoundly influenced by the early death of her Pukapukan mother, Ngatokorua a Mataá. Her second autobiography, The Frisbies of the South Seas (1959), reflects back upon her childhood in the Cook Islands and the impact of her father’s death. Since the loss of her parents, Johnny has lived in Hawai’i, Japan, New Zealand, and the Cook Islands. Johnny Frisbie is also a very well-known children’s writer, whose multicultural works are available in Cook Islands Maori, Niuean, Tongan, Tokelauan, Samoan, English and Pukapukan. She currently lives in Rarotonga. ED: Your first two autobiographical works, Miss Ulysses from Puka-Puka and The Frisbies of the South Seas, draw upon your father’s diaries, letters and novels. The chapter, "How I Write My Book" (Miss Ulysses) draws attention to your writing process, which is not particularly common in autobiographical literature of that time. In that section you quote an episode from your father's journal and then give a much more detailed narrative story in your own voice. A similar father/daughter literary dialogue is evident in your second autobiography as well. For instance, each chapter of your father's The Book of Puka Puka begins with a Pukapukan chant or song, and then proceeds to develop that theme into a local story. The Frisbies uses this same technique yet each chapter begins with a quote from your father's novels or letters and then utilises that theme as an organizing motif of the chapter about your childhood. It's not often that readers are allowed access to the workings of family literary influence. Can you tell us how you perceive your father’s written legacy and a bit more about the ways in which he has inspired your writing?   JF: I began to type my father's manuscripts from handwritten notes as well as the final draft since I was about fourteen years old using the Underwood he took to Tahiti in 1924 - the two forefinger style until the year before he died when he acquired a touch system booklet so that I could teach myself to type faster and without looking at the keys.  That happened on Rarotonga in 1947.  I learned much about creative writing then and the experience was good for my spelling.  He was silent about his dream for me to write, but I sensed strongly that he was preparing me for it.  Unfortunately, it would have been easier for me if he had lived longer.  The spirit of writing was very powerful between us, the love of books and of literature (Chaucer, Shakespeare) and when he died I was totally lost, confidence, and it was years before I attempted to write again.  But, I did keep lots and lots of diaries in the meantime, and for many mornings, years and years daily wrote down my dreams in black pads that I still have. I believe the reasons why I wrote my books the way I did, especially in The Frisbies of the South Seas are as follows.  At the time I was writing the latter, I was missing my father terribly, I was not able to give him up, for dead, as it were.  Moving from home to home left me insecure, but there were valuable lessons to learn also, I must admit.  Therefore, beginning each chapter with something of his was an act of longing to connect, to firm our bonding even though he was gone.  It was a way of making believe that we were still writing together and I was listening to his instructions, guidance and or contributions.  It was a desperate need to bring him alive.  I know this to be true because I cried a lot as I wrote those chapters.  He was an exceptional father to us.  Except for my ex-husband no one else shared the world of literature in such depth: words, unusual and not so, funny spelling, etc.  I wanted, needed to bring him to life, to recreate a life only he made possible for us.  Writing was the proof to me that I am my father's daughter (I was my father's daughter when I wrote the books). Isolated on atolls I was growing up as an island girl, culturally.  To have some of my father's European heritage, there was only one available, namely, writing (and also classical music) and all that goes with it to make it happen (books, words, spelling, Ulysses, cyclops, and Chaucer).  Other than his white skin, there were no other white man’s jewels that he wanted me to inherit or that he believed would be of value in my future life, other than to learn to be a lady and not lose my virginity before marriage.   To this day, when I read his books, I am inspired to elaborate on them, to write around bits here and there.  I find that exciting.  It's keeping the family intact, it's like watering the family tree. ED: In some family trees, legacies include strengths and intimidations. Did you feel any particular pressures as the daughter of a very well-known author? JF: In the back of my mind I want to please my father, and he is on my mind when I write.  The result is that I have come to love writing and have learned that I am not afraid of letting loose the imagination and the creative tricks of the mind in the form of writing.  My biggest setback is I do not have a good enough command of the English language.  I know nothing about punctuations - I just guess and hope for the best.  I would produce so many more books and much faster if only I had a solid English grammar background.  Aue tatou e! ED: Well, as Noam Chomsky says, “Language is a dialect with an army and a navy.” I would think that many of your readers have been inspired by the fact that you have produced some fascinating books (for adults and children) that cross all kinds of linguistic and cultural borders—they challenge those armies and navies. In fact, as much as your father was an influence on your work, your first two autobiographies also circulate around the loss of your mother, Ngatokorua a Mataá. In what ways was she an influence on your writing? What other influences, literary or otherwise, impact your writing? JF: The book that I am writing now is based on that part of me that still hungers for my mother, as if my spiritual person (the daughter) has not been fulfilled, where only she could have given me that.  Our spirituality does not come from one source, the whole is made up of many.  Where I believe I missed out is not having her "finish the job".  In this book I take advantage of creating scenes between my mother and me as if it really happened.    I don't know if there are other influences (I can't think of any right now) upon my writing.  For certain, I love to explore my mind, to learn what it can produce, what do I have that I am not aware of that I actually experienced in real life.  I am constantly testing the basket of hidden adventures, imagination I guess.  That is basically the motivating factor behind desire to write.  It's a subject I love, exploring through writing what I am capable of - and should I dare write them down for others to read.  There was a time when I did not, when I was too afraid to expose myself, to be vulnerable, but no more for I have realized that I would be dishonest to myself.  One should not be ashamed of what the mind has in store, bring it out and share it in the most graceful manner.  If people chose to be upset with what I write, I can't help it.  That is why it is important to be as graceful as possible.  No point in hurting others intentionally; and on the other hand, I can't please everybody - that is not the intention.  ED: Speaking of graceful contradictions, it seems that your first two works complement and at times contradict each other—as if they must be read together as a set. Can you describe the environment in which you wrote The Frisbies of the South Seas and what inspired you to retell the story of your childhood? JF: I was living in Japan (1954-56) and it meant living away from my two younger sisters, Elaine and Nga.  I was heartbroken and I missed them terribly.  Japan was a foreign place and the people were totally unknown to me and I was absolutely alone for a while.  In my homesickness I began to write the Frisbies of the South Seas, not intending it to be a book but rather a therapy for the homesick soul.  Homesickness and loneliness for my siblings, children and grandchildren is in itself a sickness I suffer from, and no matter how successfully I manage to live a life away from them sometimes, I am always longing for them.  I retell stories of my childhood because I haven't seen it repeated anywhere, and children seem to want to read about that period of my life. So much more pleasant to write of my childhood than to retell stories of later years.  I like the purity and innocence of the former.  ED: Yes, and it seems that your works are formed by relationships with your parents as well as your brothers and sisters. In fact, you and your siblings were very well-known and beloved public figures in Hawai’i in the 1950s and 60s. For those of us who followed your childhood up until the publication of The Frisbies in 1959, can you bring us up to date about your activities in the decades following your first two works? JF: My former husband (the father of my four children) and I decided in the early sixties to take our two children to either New Zealand or Australia for their upbringing and so we sailed on a Matson liner to Rarotonga and stayed one year.  I gave birth to Haumea while there in 1962 and when she was a week old we sailed again on a Matson passenger ship New Zealand, then by train to Dunedin in the South Island where we made our home.  We wanted to settle in Australia but because of that country's 'white policy' legislation I was not permitted to settle there.  My husband moved back to Hawaii in 1975 but I stayed on believing it was the best place for our children to finish their schooling.  The oldest was then 17 and the youngest 7.  He did not return and we parted.  We lead a busy life, taking full advantage of the beautiful countryside, the beaches, mountains, lakes and camping grounds.   The children played and excelled in sports: swimming, rugby, diving, basketball and netball, and in music.  I worked part-time at the University of Otago for six years to augment the Child Benefit check.  At the same time I was invited to join the Maori and South Pacific Arts Council, a branch of Queen Elizabeth Arts Council, representative the Cook Islands community for six years.  There were Maoris and Samoans as well on the Council. The Council was responsible for vetting through hundreds of applications for funding projects/programmes such as carving, weaving, canoe building, meeting house restoration, performing arts and tribal/island gatherings for the purpose of cultural awareness and more.  We were required to travel up and down the breath of the country, staying most of the time on Maori marae (meeting houses).  We were given the massive job of reviving cultures of the Maori as well as of Pacific Islanders living in New Zealand.  At the same time I was on television five days a weeks as one of four women panelists, giving our opinions, not advice in respond to letters from viewers on every subject imaginable.  I presented a Cook Island perspective to most of the queries or questions, e.g. how to stop a baby from crying at night (take to bed with you, apparently it worked for hundreds of babies, the trouble was they did not want to return to the boring old crib!), my husband is awful, should I leave him, to encouraging aged travellers to take the plunge and go home to Scotland or England (homeland) for a visit.  It was a fun programme to be on and a privilege for me and for the Cook Islands viewers living in New Zealand.  It was aired for ten years.  ED: It sounds like you’ve continued to travel and make important contributions and connections to a variety of Pacific Island cultures. Could you tell us a bit about your other professions, such as a model and dancer? JF: I did not model very much, now and again.  I introduced the Cook Islands drum dance to Hawaii at Don the Beachcombers in Waikiki in 1950 until my then husband and I travelled to the Cook Islands and then to settle in New Zealand.  In Hawaii I modelled (or sat) at the Academy of Arts for students and friends of my foster mother Barbara Engles.  I have had no other "professions" as such for I have always been a volunteer (community) worker and homemaker at heart.  I believe in being of serviced to my community in every way possible.    I have also dedicated most of my life to being the housewife/homemaker/mother role (they can be creative).   I consider both as professions that take years of training and studying. ED: Both of your autobiographies are routed in the discourse of Pacific travel—in fact, some parallels might be made to earlier Cook Island writers such as Ta’unga and Maretu. In what ways has your travel between the Cook Islands, Hawai’i, the United States and New Zealand impacted your writing? JF: I don't really know how to answer this.  Maybe the travels broadened my mind and trained my shyness out of its cage.  My writing now has more depth.  Getting to know people of other countries reduced prejudices and narrow mindedness.  Instead of sticking to one rule (expectation) I learned about the oneness of mankind as well as the diversity within it.  The travels expanded my mind and freed me from fear of offending for cultural reasons.  ED: One of the ways in which you reveal this expansiveness is in your contributions to diverse reading audiences. You are now a very well-known children’s author whose works have been translated into many Pacific Island languages. How did you become involved in writing children’s literature? JF: The Editor of the School Journal, a Department of Education publication catering to the schools of New Zealand and the Pacific had asked me for permission to publish as a single book one of the chapters in The Frisbies of the South Seas, called "Silent Night". I edited it a little bit and after it was published and distributed to the schools.  Later, Don Long, the editor, asked me to write more stories.  That is how I became one of the many Pacific Islands contributors to the School Journal.  When the family celebrated my father's centennial with an exhibition of photographs, journals, memorabilia and excerpts from letters to James Normal Hall and more here on Rarotonga I invited Don to come to conduct a workshop on writing children’s stories, and illustrating and translating them as well.  It was grand and resulted in three women having their children's stories published. ED: Reflecting back upon your important early contributions to Pacific literature, are there any similarities you see between your works and later authors such as Witi Ihimaera, Albert Wendt, Patricia Grace (who is also a well-know children/adult writer), or others? Do you see your work within a Pacific literary tradition? JF: What the above writers and I have in common is our desire to identify with our Polynesian ancestry, and to somehow prove through our writing that we are deep in our cultures, and that our stories must be told by us, not foreigners.  Many writers in Polynesia today are motivated by that desire.  Do I perceive my work within a Pacific Island literary tradition?  I don't know whether or not there is a Pacific Island literary tradition.  These days, Pacific Island writers travel far and wide, have become very sophisticated and outspoken to boot. In our writing we try to prove that we are very spiritual, and only we and no others understand spirituality. Of course, we are fooling ourselves.  But we are at least exploring that area of our being.  Call it mysticism if you like. I think there is an underlying desire to have the stories of the Pacific told by the peoples of the islands, call it territorial or possessiveness, if you like!  ED: Can you tell us a bit about your latest projects? JF: I am writing some more children's stories, but the BIG one is a short novel which I would rather not go into in detail.  It is about a daughter/granddaughter who left her island. Her mother died when she was young but in fact lived on in the daughter's mind.  She returns to the island to find her mother, to connect in whatever manner available.  No more. 5